


tried my best to be guarded (i'm an open book instead)

by costia_gray



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Hopeful Ending, Insecure Lena Luthor, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Light Angst, POV Lena Luthor, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 23:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18927118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/costia_gray/pseuds/costia_gray
Summary: Now that you’ve gotten this far, you’re not sure what your endgame really is. You want to be angry. You want to yell. Hell, if you were sure your hand wouldn’t come away broken, you might even be tempted to slap her. But you’ve had enough to drink that the outrage is dulled.akaWhat happens after game night in 4x22.





	tried my best to be guarded (i'm an open book instead)

**Author's Note:**

> I rarely write in the second person, but there are times ideas just come to me like this. Hope y'all enjoy.
> 
> (Also my first attempt at Supercorp so please be gentle.)

You aren’t drunk. You’re sad, yes, and you’ve been drinking, certainly, but you’re not _drunk_. As someone who has been terribly drunk more times than you’ll ever admit — more recently than you’ll ever admit, too — you’re very sure of that. Not drunk.

You might be a bit buzzed, though. Wine doesn’t have nearly the same effect on you a good scotch would, but any human being would be tingling the way you are after four glasses of red wine. Or was it five? You’d stopped keeping track after the first two, letting the game in front of you and Alex’s teasing challenges take up all your focus instead. It was better that way — kept your mind away from those deep, dark places you didn’t really want to explore when you were supposed to be having fun.

You want more than anything for tonight to be real. You want to feel comfort and love in the company of these people you have come to see as your family — a far better family than the one you were raised in. But there’s a touch of insecurity niggling at the back of your mind now: these same people have been keeping such a huge secret from you for _years_ at Kara’s behest, have made you into a fool. They all knew, and they have all lied directly to your face, time after time after time. That’s _no better_ than the family you grew up in.

There’s only one explanation that comes to your mind: they don’t trust you, maybe they never have. No, worse: _she_ doesn’t trust you. You have done nothing — _nothing_ — but love her completely, with your whole self, and she doesn’t trust you to know her secret. She doesn’t trust you to be better than your brother — Supergirl has made that abundantly clear in the past.

You thought you’d known heartbreak when your brother turned against you again and again. You thought you’d known the pain of betrayal when Eve — your trusted colleague, your _friend_ — revealed she had been working with Lex. You thought you’d known hurt when James — the man who claimed to love you — told you he didn’t want your kind of love, didn’t trust you to make the right decisions in your work with the DEO.

They were nothing compared to this ache in your heart, this hollow emptiness you can feel all the way down to the tips of your toes, knowing your _best friend_ , the woman you love more than you can possibly describe hasn’t trusted you with such a huge part of herself.

The wine doesn’t fill that emptiness, but it masks it, makes you feel calm and fuzzy and… maybe a little bit brave.

Game night has dwindled down to quiet chatter at this point. Everyone is buzzed or tipsy or outright smashed. Alex and Kelly, you notice, have had enough to drink to be making out on the chair behind J’onn’s desk unabashedly, not the slightest bit concerned that they have an audience sitting mere feet away. J’onn, James, and Brainy are chatting about something, and Kara’s talking to Nia until the cub reporter walks off to get a snack off the table.

You set your glass on the coffee table and get to your feet the second Nia’s out of the way. Kara looks up at you with that sweet smile, the one that makes your heart race every time without fail, and you hold out a hand for her.

She takes it without a word, but the confusion and curiosity are shown clearly in that familiar, adorable crinkle between her brows. You squeeze her hand and tug, knowing now you stand no realistic chance of moving her. But she lets you anyway, getting to her feet and letting you lead her out into the hallway.

You drop her hand to make sure the door is shut, feeling those blue eyes boring into you the entire time. Now that you’ve gotten this far, you’re not sure what your endgame really is. You want to be angry. You want to yell. Hell, if you were sure your hand wouldn’t come away broken, you might even be tempted to slap her. But you’ve had enough to drink that the outrage is dulled. The thoughts that have consumed you since the moment you saw that L-Corp footage in Lex’s bunker (of Kara catching bullets with her bare hands during Mercy’s attempted takeover to save you) won’t turn into words.

So instead, you find yourself just staring at her, your arms crossed over your chest. She looks so concerned, her brows still furrowed, her hands on her hips. It occurs to you at that moment how oblivious you truly are because now that you know the truth, you can _see it_. Glasses and a different hairstyle don’t change the fact that this woman is _obviously_ Supergirl. That power pose of hers, the way her arm muscles ripple beneath her red sweater…

How could you have been such a _fucking_ fool?

“Lena?” Your head snaps to her when she speaks, finally breaking the loaded silence. She looks a little alarmed for a moment but covers it quickly, reaching out for you. “I’m worried about you.”

Her hands are on your arms, drawing you closer before you can respond. Your chest feels tight and you swallow against the lump in your throat, feeling tears stinging the backs of your eyes as she wraps you up in her arms. You try to stay stiff for a minute, but she kisses your temple and rubs your back, and this is _Kara_. You can’t help but melt into her, your arms sliding up her back and gripping her shoulders, and you revel in the kindness and affection and love that just _radiates_ from her.

“I’m right here,” Kara breathes, her lips pressing another kiss against your temple. “I’m right here. I’ve got you, Lee. Always.”

Your face is buried in her neck when the tears start gathering and falling. Your chest shudders and her fingers thread into your hair as a sob breaks free. You have never felt so broken, and considering the fantastically abusive family you’ve tried so long to free yourself from, that’s saying quite a lot. And the worst part of it all is that you _allowed_ this to happen. You allowed yourself to fall in love with this beautiful, sweet, smart, incredible woman without reservation, thinking she was pure and innocent and the best person you’d ever met.

You’re not entirely sure how long you cry in Kara’s embrace before an eerie calm settles over you. You pull back just a bit, your hands still resting on the small of Kara’s back. Her arms stay looped around your neck and one hand presses there, urging you forward so your forehead rests against hers. Both of her hands find their way to your cheeks, gentle fingers brushing away the wet streaks of tears you’ve finally managed to stop from flowing while she wears a small smile.

Your eyes search hers, just for a second, before your hands are pushing into her back and you’re tilting your chin up to take her lips with your own.

You feel rather than hear her gasp, giving you the perfect opportunity to tease your tongue between her parted lips. Then she sighs and, for once, _she_ is the one melting into _you_ , her fingers threading back into your hair. Her glasses press a little awkwardly against your face until you tilt your head and adjust the angle, allowing her to lean down and deepen the kiss further.

Her tongue has just passed your lips and started a slow exploration of its new surroundings when you pull away, breathless, face hot and flushed. Kara’s pupils have darkened so much the black nearly overwhelms the beautiful blue of her irises. Her cheeks are just as red as you imagine yours are, and she’s smiling that blindingly brilliant smile of hers, the one that’s turned you into a useless puddle of mush since the very first time it was given to you.

For a moment, you almost forget to be hurt. You’re too stunned, too dazed by the results your own tipsy bravery has yielded to remember she’s Supergirl and she’s lied to you through _three years of friendship_. It’s easy to forget when she’s stroking your face, nipping at the tip of your nose, looking like an elated child whose dreams have just come true.

Just a few hours ago, you’re sure you’d have been wearing exactly the same expression. A part of you is _still_ elated because this is _Kara_ and you _love her_. You’ve loved her through everything — through her mess of a relationship with Mon-El, through your own sham of a relationship with James. But she’s also _Supergirl_ and she still hasn’t told you. You’ve been waiting all night and she hasn’t even tried.

You watch her silently. You watch as the smile softens to something milder but still _so_ tender and loving. You watch as her pupils contract back to their normal state. You lean into her as she strokes your back, one of your hands moving to the exposed part of her chest, tracing a path up along her clavicle. She looks a little somber now, unsure for a moment before a determined light appears in her eyes.

“Lena, there’s…” She hesitates, gathers herself, then tries again. “I have to—”

“I loved you,” you burst out, speaking for the first time since you dragged her out into this hallway. It just comes out of you — unfiltered, unprompted — and your eyes well up with tears again.

Kara’s face falls. You hate the way it makes your heart sink.

“You… L-Loved? Like… past tense?” Her voice is trembling just a bit when she asks, and she looks _pained_.

You want to fix it and assure her it’s _love_ not _loved_ , but you don’t seem to be completely in the driver’s seat right now. And besides, doesn’t she deserve to feel a _fraction_ of what you’re feeling?

“You lied to me.” You had hoped your tone would be cold and harsh and accusatory. But it really just sounds like you’re going to cry, wavering and weak, because you _are_ crying. _Again._ “You lied to me for _three years_. I asked you directly in that forest and you _wouldn’t tell me_.”

“Lena, I’m so—”

“Save it,” you snap. This time you know the tone you want has come through because her mouth clicks shut and she shrinks back and her eyes start welling up, too. “I _loved you_ , and you were never honest with me!”

“That’s not true!” Kara protests tearfully. “I am exactly who I’ve always said I was, Lee. I’m still Kara Danvers. The same girl you…loved—” She swallows hard, saying the word like it’s too hard, too painful. “That’s still _me_ , sweetheart. It’s just… Supergirl is a part of me, too.”

You scoff, pushing lightly at her chest but not trying very hard to really get away. That part of you that loves her more than anything, that needs your best friend close to you, is winning out even after the angry words have spilled out. She doesn’t loosen her hold on you one bit.

“I know you’re upset and you’re hurt. I know you think I don’t trust you, but I _do_ , Lena. I’ve always trusted you and believed in you.” Her words are firm and sure, and she knows every one of your wounds without you even voicing them aloud. And despite yourself, you find yourself feeling such immense relief, believing every little bit of it. “I didn’t tell you because… I was trying to keep you safe. I was… Well, I was unfair to you. A little selfish, too. And I am _so sorry_ , but I just… I needed someone to love me for _me_. For Kara. Not for Supergirl.”

You don’t reply and she falls silent, leaning in when you begin brushing her tears away like she did for you. She looks afraid but so hopeful at the same time, and your hurt begins to ebb. Because you understand. Her feelings make sense, and while you still feel jilted and foolish and it’s going to be a long road back to fully trusting her, you do legitimately get it. She was indulging herself in a relationship where she was never expected to be super to be loved. You think you might do the same in her shoes, with such high expectations on your shoulders.

“I’m the only one that didn’t know,” you say quietly because it’s still bothering you. “Everyone must think I’m a complete moron.” It might sound silly, but the insecurity that had passed so long ago is back in full-force. Whether or not it’s true, you can’t help wondering if they’ve been mocking you, laughing at you all along. Like Lex said.

“You know that’s not true,” Kara says softly, the most beautiful, radiant smile spreading across her lips. “You know they love you and they’re your family. This wasn’t some secret they reveled in keeping from you, sweetheart. They were only respecting my wishes. I was— I was too afraid of losing you.”

You nod, accepting her answer as she leans forward to press a long kiss against your forehead. You let your eyes close, enjoying the excitement and happiness her touch sends swirling in your belly, overwhelming (at least for now) the feelings of bitterness and rejection. They could be back in a minute, an hour, a day or two, but for now, you’ve reached a place of begrudging acceptance. Maybe you _are_ drunk.

“Let me fly you home,” Kara says softly.

You narrow your eyes at her. “Fly?” You’ve been in her arms while she’s flown before, of course, but right now, it feels like it would be too much.

“ _Take_ ,” she amends, cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the slip. “I mean…unless you want me to…?”

You shake your head, resting your forehead against hers and smiling when she smiles. You kind of can’t help it. You’re not sure why you ever thought you could stay angry with her. Even when you’ve felt slighted in the past, before you knew, you could never hold onto those feelings for long. Not when you know how much she loves you, feel it spilling off her in waves every time you’re near her.

“I’ll let you _drive_ me home if it makes you feel better,” you acquiesce. She looks positively thrilled. “My car’s outside.” You feel a kiss land on your cheekbone just below your left eye before she vanishes inside to gather your things.

You’re leaning against the wall, your head tipped back when she comes back with your bag and her own slung over her shoulder. Your eyes meet those big blues, soft and warm and earnest, and your heart starts racing. She reaches for your hand, fingers lacing into yours.

“You’re with me, right?”

The repetition of what she’d asked you when you got here doesn’t go unnoticed. Seriousness replaces the teasing tone from earlier, and she searches your face with tentative eyes like she’s scared you’re going to say no. It makes your breath hitch in your throat and your chest constrict in the sweetest way.

How could you possibly turn her away? If nothing else, this encounter has proved exactly how weak you are for her, how malleable you are to her words and under her touch. You can’t even truly yell at her when she’s more than earned it. She’s made you too soft for her.

“Always,” you repeat your own answer, too, sincere in a way you aren’t sure it was before. You can’t imagine ever cutting her out. What would your life even _be_ without her?

Her eyes light up and she squeezes your hand in hers and captures your mouth again. Her head is perfectly tilted this time, her hands cupping your cheeks, her belly pressed against yours. It’s gentler on your end, too, tempered with more honest affection and less hurt.

You smile — genuinely — as you kiss her, laying your hand over her heart to feel it pounding just as hard as your own. The realization that there’s more than just the Supergirl debacle to address here is scary and exciting and oddly calming all at once. Definitely something you’ll have to deal with soon. Another day, when you’re fully sober.

She’s the one to break the kiss, take a step back and give your hand a little squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay,” she says softly, keeping her fingers interlocked with yours. Your smile fades; you appreciate the reassurance, but it’s making you feel the hurt again. Right now, you’d rather be buzzed and content. “I promise, Lena. I’m gonna make this right.”

“Okay.” You squeeze her hand and brush a kiss against her cheek, nudging her playfully to get her moving. “We’ll talk about it later, yeah? Let’s just… Let’s go home.”

Kara nods and smiles, and you notice the smudges of lipstick — _your lipstick_ — on her cheek, on her lips. Your chest fills with warmth and a tingling sensation spreads down through your arms, through your stomach, when you see just how she’s looking at you. Maybe it really will be okay. Maybe if you set your wounded pride aside, you really can get past this. With her.

“Yeah,” she agrees, leading you down the hallway toward the elevator. “Let’s go home.”


End file.
